


The Chopped Job

by kiss_me_cassie



Category: Leverage
Genre: Alec Hardison's Nana - Freeform, Cooking, Cooking Lessons, Domestic Fluff, Eliot Spencer's Cooking, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Male-Female Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-09
Updated: 2017-09-09
Packaged: 2018-12-25 12:33:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12035967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiss_me_cassie/pseuds/kiss_me_cassie
Summary: Parker wants to treat Hardison to a special evening and asks Eliot for help. What could go wrong?





	The Chopped Job

**Author's Note:**

  * For [scribblemyname](https://archiveofourown.org/users/scribblemyname/gifts).



> Notes: For scribblemyname in the Gecko & Franzi Friends Exchange
> 
> Amongst others, she had the following as prompts:   
> Parker’s pretty much my favorite, and I always love looking through her skewed, sweet perspective. She’s just so much fun.  
> Eliot, I just want to see him cook and teach people to cook, whether that’s Leverage people or characters from any other of the fandoms I’ve signed up with. I love him and food. 
> 
> I'm so glad I got these prompts, since I had so much fun writing this. It's nice to play in a different sandbox every once and while.
> 
> Many, many thanks to Crazy4Orcas and Shen for the beta, the cheerleading, and the suggestions. Y'all are the BEST.

She was hovering again.

Eliot hadn't really paid much attention to it the first few times, figuring it was just Parker being Parker. A little weird, a little nosy, a whole lot awkward. Who cared if she wanted to hover around the kitchen while he whipped up an omelette or prepped the ratatouille?

But tonight, she'd gone too far.

"Dang it, Parker! Do not dip your fingers in the sauce!" Eliot exclaimed, shouldering her away from his saute pan. "Use a spoon! A SPOON!"

But it was too late; now he had to start all over again.

"It's a good sauce," she said, licking at her fingers. 

"It's a ruined sauce," he grumbled, picking up the pan and dumping it into the sink. "Parker, what in blazes are you up to, sneakin' into my kitchen all Ninja-like every day?"

She shrugged, all innocent indifference, and reached into the sink to dip her fingers into the sauce again. "Nothing."

"Nothing my…" He took a deep breath and dredged up as much patience as he could find. He'd gotten used to her nosing around, but now it was time to put a stop to it. "Parker, is there a particular reason you've been hangin’ around my kitchen lately, looking like a lost lamb searchin' for its mother?"

She didn't answer right away, just twisted a lock of pale hair around her finger. He idly wondered if he should threaten her with one of his butcher knives and chase her from the kitchen before she did any more damage.

But she seemed to be having an internal debate with herself, trying to figure out what she wanted to say, so he waited. Eliot knew it wouldn't do any good to try and rush her; Parker did things at her own pace and rushing her tended to make most situations worse.

So he stood there as patiently as he could, trying not to frown at the ruined sauce in the sink or at the pile of vegetables that still needed chopping.

When she did finally speak, what came out of her mouth surprised him.

"Hardison misses his nana's cooking," she finally said in a rush.

He stared at her for a beat, expecting more. When nothing else was forthcoming, he asked, "Ok. So... Does he want me to whip him up something special?"

She shook her head, blonde ponytail swinging wildly.

"Do _you_ want me to whip him up something special?"

She started to nod, then changed her mind halfway through and shook her head again.

"Parker, I am tryin' to be patient, but I've got a roast in the oven that's mere minutes from becoming a hunk of dried out, inedible meat, my sauce is ruined, and you're not givin' me a whole lot to go on here."

Chewing her lip nervously, she crossed her arms defensively across her chest before blurting out, "I don't want you to cook for him. _I_ want to cook for him."

His eyebrows shot up momentarily before he squinted at her suspiciously. "Can you even cook?"

She frowned and shook her head again.

"Now we're gettin' some -- Hold on a sec!" he said, as the timer dinged.

Twisting around and kicking open the oven door, he used the hem of his denim shirt to protect his hands as he lifted the roasting pan out and set it on the counter. With deft skill, he ripped off a length of foil and expertly molded it over the meat. 

"There. That's gotta rest a few minutes, so…"

But when he turned back around, she was gone.

\---

"So are we really doing this?" Hardison asked excitedly. "We're breaking into Fenway Park to see if Eliot can hit a homer over the Green Monster?"

" _Are we doin' this_? How is that even a question? That's like askin' if Kylo Ren is evil," Eliot said, grinning. 

Parker beamed at both of them and Hardison bounced on his toes.

"I'm gonna go get Lucille ready. Gimme two minutes and then we are outta here," Hardison said, giving them each a stern look. "I mean it. Two minutes. You take any more time than that, I'm leaving without you. I don't care how important Eliot is to the plan."

He swung out of the loft and headed down the stairs, whistling to himself, but Eliot didn't immediately follow. Instead, he used the moment to block Parker's exit from the apartment.

"Not so fast," he said, leaning in the doorway, legs stretched out in her way.

She raised an eyebrow at his tactics but didn't say a word.

"We both know you can get past me real easy," he said, slouching comfortably against the worn wood. "But you want something from me and the only way you're going to get it is to ask."

"I don't know what you mean," she said.

"Yes, you do," he said, his eyes never leaving hers. "We started a conversation the other day, you and me, right over there in that kitchen. We need to finish it."

She tried to sidestep him and this time he raised an eyebrow at her. 

"Nuh-uh-uh." She stopped and he smiled. "Tell me what you want, Parker."

"The Hope Diamond," she promptly answered. "All shiny and sparkly and _expensive_."

He sighed, but stood his ground. "Parker."

"Hardison's waiting for us," she said, peeking around him toward the hallway and stairs.

He refused to rise to her bait or look away. "So he is. He'll have to keep waitin'."

"Fine," she said, sighing and rolling her eyes. "I want to learn how to cook. Something to remind Hardison of his nana's cooking."

Eliot's smile got bigger as he stepped away from the doorway. "Thank you. We start on Thursday."

\---

"I can't do this!" she cried when the carrot skidded off the cutting board and onto the floor yet again. "I'll never learn. And then I'll never be able to make Hardison a home cooked meal."

She turned and he was sure she'd have run right out of the kitchen if he hadn't caught her around the waist and spun her back around. 

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." he said, resting his hands lightly on her shoulders and looking her straight in the eye. "Parker… Stop."

"What?"

She was skittish as a newborn colt, so he spoke low and gentle, just like he would if she were one of the spindly young horses on the ranch.

"You can do this," he assured her. "I think we just have to look at it from another perspective. The first time you jumped off a building, did you nail it?"

Confusion clouded her expression. "What does that have to do with cooking?"

"What does... " He took a deep breath. "Humor me. Did you?"

She shook her head. "Rope was on the wrong side. I wound up upside down."

"What about the second time?"

She looked at him stubbornly. "I made it to the bottom."

"But it didn't go perfectly smoothly, did it?" he guessed. When she shook her head again, he continued. "What about the third time?"

She rolled her eyes. "Anyone who jumps off a building more than twice better get it right by the third time or - SPLAT! Flat kitty."

"That's the spirit," he said, guiding her back over to the cutting board. "Same thing with cooking. Why don't we start with something a little easier than carrots? Like a banana."

He snagged one from the bowl on the counter and deftly tossed it to her. She caught it effortlessly but gave him a funny look. "There aren't any bananas in this recipe."

"No, there aren't, but I forgot that you can't start off safecracking with a Mosler."

She snorted.

"I was tryin' too hard and forgot Rule No. 1 of cooking," he continued, grinning. "Well, Rule No. 2 after 'Keep your knives sharp.' It's 'Start out easy, work your way up'. We'll start with bananas, move on to zucchini and then tackle carrots."

He took her hand and firmly guided it toward the banana, helping her to slice through the yellow flesh.

"Did I ever tell you about this guy I knew in Special Ops? Spent a bit of time in some foster homes before running off to join the circus. Can you believe it? The circus! What kind of crazy person joins the circus? Anyhow, we were working together in Special Ops and he met this girl - really smart girl too, a scientist or something - and he wanted to impress her. He had this whole special evening planned out - dinner, candles, the works."

They finished slicing the banana and he grabbed another vegetable from the bowl, helping her to slice this one, too.

"So he's got this whole thing planned down to the tiniest detail, even hired a caterer, and we get called in for an emergency extraction of some mid-level dignitary in Bangladesh. The whole thing had to get scrapped."

"So what did he do?" Parker asked as he guided another vegetable beneath her knife.

"Nothing. Didn't even remember he had to cancel the catering. So it's about a week later, and _she_ surprises _him_ with a nearly identical set up. When he asks her about it, all she does is laugh and tells him he's really bad at surprises and he probably shouldn't have put her down as the emergency contact for the caterer," Eliot ended with a small chuckle.

"Where is he now?"

"In a different kind of Special Ops."

"Is he still bad at surprises?"

"Don't know. Haven't seen him in years. Haven't even thought about him in years. But if I had to guess, I'd say yes." Eliot stopped and grinned, gesturing towards the cutting board, where Parker had just finished successfully slicing her first carrot. "Well, lookie there - a chopped carrot. Congratulations, Parker. Time to move on to the next step in our lessons."

\---

Eliot rubbed his hands together and eyed up the chicken and dumplings that were simmering on the stove.

"Now it's time to taste it to see if we need to add any more seasoning," Eliot said, picking up a clean fork and holding it out to her. "To taste, we use clean cutlery. You hear that, Parker? Clean cutlery. You do not touch a masterpiece like this with your fingers. Ever."

"Well, _you_ don't," she muttered, swiping the fork and stabbing at one of the dumplings. She shoved it into her mouth and immediately gagged, spitting it out into the sink with a loud splat.

"Parker! What in the world…?"

He grabbed a fork of his own and gently flaked off a piece of dumpling to taste. The second it hit his tongue he knew everything had gone horribly wrong.

"Uh, Parker?" Eliot asked as he choked down the sliver of food. "Exactly how much salt did you add to this?"

She pointed to one of the measuring cups on the counter. "That much."

"That much?" he asked, gesturing to it. "A whole cup?"

She nodded. "Yes. Was it too much?"

Eliot groaned and ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "Parker! You use a pinch of salt. A pinch! Maybe a teaspoon at most. You don't use a whole cup."

"Can we fix it?" she asked, looking at him hopefully.

He sighed and reached into his back pocket for his phone. "Yeah, we can fix it. Probably."

\---

"I cannot believe you made me dinner," Hardison said, a big grin forming as he reached for the cover of the chafing dish. "Do you know how long I've been dreaming about chicken and dumplings like my Nana used to make? Some nice, juicy thighs with fluffy... Uh, Parker? Babe? This is a pizza."

"Uh-huh. From Mario's," she said, beaming at him. "With pepperoni and olives. Just like you like it."

Hardison shook his head in confusion. "I thought you said…"

"I did," she said. "But I ran into a little problem."

"A problem?"

She grimaced. "Apparently it makes a difference if you use a whole cup of salt in the dumplings."

Hardison gaped at her, wide-eyed. "You used a whole cup?"

"Well, it's not like Eliot had an actual recipe to follow," she grumped.

"Parker, I do not know much about cooking, but even I know you never use that much salt. Nana always said to use it sparingly."

"See? Even you knew that," she said, studying his face to gage his reaction. "You're disappointed. You really wanted the dumplings."

"Not gonna lie. I was looking forward to them," Hardison said, pulling her down onto his lap and giving her a little hug. "But it's ok. Mix up like this could happen to anybody."

"Not Eliot," she mumbled.

"Well, no, not Eliot," Hardison agreed. "That man is crazy skilled in the kitchen. But it could happen to mere mortals like us."

"But I ruined your dinner," she wailed. "I really wanted to make you something special. You should have seen how good I did with the carrots once Eliot showed me how to use the knife to chop instead of stab. But then there was the thing with the flour and the salt and --" 

"Seriously, Parker. It's fine," Hardison said. He loosened a slice of pizza and slid it onto his plate. "Chicken and dumplings are nice, but pizza is awesome."

"Really?"

"Really," Hardison said, taking a huge bite from the slice and smiling at her. "I love… pizza."

"Good. I love… pizza… too," Parker said, flushing a little as she smiled back at him. "Kind of like how I like pretzels."

He grinned. 

"Where, you know, pizza and pretzels are the same thing," she explained further.

Hardison nodded and took another bite of pizza. When she didn't say anything else, but kept staring at him expectantly, he stopped chewing. "Parker? Did you think I didn't understand what you meant?"

She shrugged.

He put down the pizza and reached out a hand to clasp hers. "I get it. And I like… _love_... pizza and pretzels too, ok?"

Her smile returned and she gave his hand a little squeeze. "Ok."


End file.
